My Own World.

He calls me to walk among
The shadows, in this icy path of gloom.
Here I am and here form now until the end of time,
I must remain.
I will lat here where the mocking angels sing,
Where the damned are condemned.
Here, where the sun does not reach,
Where the whips of pain lash,
Here where my soul is lost,
Twisting in a tempest of demented memories.
And he, ringmaster of this un-holy circus,
Holds the keys to my locked chains.
I must find someway to break free
For it is clear in my mind,
By no means a cherub,
Like myself,
Could endure a life in this hellish nightmare.